


Delete; Delete; Restore

by xiexemxer



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alone, Crying out for help, Dark, Gen, Medical Procedures, Monitor from Space, Multi, Other, Outer Space, PAK Programming, Science Fiction, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Zim needs a therapist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:57:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23171329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiexemxer/pseuds/xiexemxer
Summary: Zim is left alone on his moon base to his thoughts and his self-destructive tendencies.  What could be causing this malfunction?  Why can't he leave this damn solar system already?  Perhaps it has to do with the subjects he's been watching on Earth.
Relationships: Dib & Gaz (Invader Zim), Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), GIR & Zim (Invader Zim), Gaz & Zim (Invader Zim), Invader Skoodge & Zim
Kudos: 34





	Delete; Delete; Restore

The landing pad sealed in the high entrance to the base. Gravity regulated; necessary chemical components for the inhabitant hummed through the expansive halls to replenish that which was momentarily lost. The small dip would do nothing for the species of the creature who created this base. Irkens remained surprisingly resilient, likely due to chemical response controlled by the small PAKs embedded into their nervous systems.

To an extent, the same could be said about Zim, the short ex-invader standing still in front of a metal table. His magenta eyes looked over the polished surface, bare for the first time since he began his latest fixation on upgrading GIR. The malfunctioning SIR unit was gone. Skoodge was gone. The base was quiet aside from the hum of Irken technology all around him. With the others nearby Zim may have claimed this quiet was what he desired. In truth, the silence allowed another noise to creep up Zim's spine.

Every 93.7 earth seconds it happened: a quick zap rushing up his spin from the PAK and into his skull. It was ages now since the PAK was initially installed in his spinal column and connected to his nervous system; as such he was used to this quick zap of electricity. There was a time when it was less severe, he thought, but Zim could no longer remember if that were true. What he did know is how intense it became after entering Earth's atmosphere. Just as on the planet's surface, the electricity drew into the ground and rooted him there to disperse among the insignificant atoms creating the disgusting planet. Atoms attracted to writhing bodies of popping pustules. 

There was one cause that Zim could identify.

"Computer," he murmured softly as to not disturb the quiet hum. An apathetic groan responded. Zim ignored it. "Bring up surveillance from sector C 56, cameras 7, 8, 15, and 21."

"Ugh, again?" the computer groaned. Its automated voice echoed in the metal chamber. Zim did not turn around to look at the screens hanging from the ceiling. His silence was answered with another groan. Then another. The computer did not like being ignored. "What _ever_." The screens blinked one at a time until images of familiar neighborhoods appeared. The final camera focused in on a purple house with a domed roof and what appeared to be recent expansions to the garage and first floor.

The light spilling across the room in shades uncommon in the moon base finally lured Zim to turn. Here he was again. It always sends a spike of pain down his spine and backs up, into his skull and right to the base of his antenna to see the Membrane house. At least now the humans weren't visible. He could take some time to stare at the house he remembered clearly. Oddly his memories of the odd planet Earth were the only ones that remained strong and clear in Zim's mind. Memories of his own planet, of planets he helped concur or those he spent time as a scientist on...those were fading every day.

Years passed since Zim last stepped on the Earth's surface. He hadn't changed. The house he now stared at, hadn't changed. The vacant lot where his earth base once stood had not changed since he installed the cameras...and the cameras facing the Dib's cameras retained the same view. So many variables remained stagnant as if the time on Earth were beginning to take on the measurement of time on Irk. Then there were other ... variables. Objects which changed in ways Zim didn't quite understand.

Surely, he knew that adults and children were the same species yet watching the transformation over time had been an unexpected experience. Zim's two subjects were members of the Membrane unit. Of course, as the computer used to drone, Zim knew there were other and perhaps more normalized subjects to watch. On occasion, he glimpsed at familiar faces passing along the streets where his surveillance equipment spied. Those notes were rarely focused on, however. No, Zim traced the transformations of child to young adult of both the Dib and the Dib-sister with a secret, and dangerously frequent, interest.

His magenta eyes glanced toward another camera, the empty lot. How many times did he fight with the Dib there? He was foolish enough to bring the Dib-sister there as well. "You tried to kill Zim," he murmured, staring past the emptiness and seeing the blurred outline of his base as he thought. "Understandable," he breathed. For an invader Zim had to admit he was shockingly nice to the human creatures. That may have been why the shooting pain from the PAK became worse.

"Zim must destroy this planet for the Almighty...." His voice was hallowed as he restated the words that burst from his mouth so many times before. From here he could have caused any number of horrible things to happen to the planet. the clarity of mind when separated from the humans, though always fleeting, may have let him develop an actual tool to destroy the planet. perhaps terraform it for some other form of life, taking out the humans in the process. He had no interest in keeping any around if he did complete the task. Well...nearly no interest.

"Unngh." A sharp pain forced Zim's head down, his gloved hand reaching up but not quite touching the antenna. If the Computer continued to pay Zim any attention it did not react.

Zim stayed like this, half fetal position in his stance, for a while before a new color flashing on the screen caught his attention. Looking up, he saw a purple vehicle parking in the paved drive path to the Membrane house. Another zap brought Zim to his knees. This time his head stayed up as he watched them.

Teenage Dib-Sister got out of the vehicle first. Her mouth was moving. "Zoom in," Zim strained to speak. The computer zoomed in on the car. While the female specimen was taller, she didn't look entirely different. Her purple hair remained in the same cut. Her clothing was brighter, Zim noted. That change happened sometime between the switch from mid-skool and what the humans called high-skool. Zim had misunderstood what that meant, assuming it was affiliation with a high council or a special classification for members of society deemed worthy enough to ascend in society--similar to the training he went through to become an Invader.

She looked better. For some period Zim noted in the Dib-sister's file that she was taking actions that...he often thought of committing himself. Each time he saw the signs Zim lost consciousness from the PAK reaction; a clear imbalance in his physiology which needed to be correct, he assured himself. It was some time since he saw the same frequency of symptoms. She must have been improving. His body flinched at another zap. This time from jealousy.

Movement on the other side of the vehicle; a door opening. It was the Dib, as expected. Significantly taller than before but otherwise looking similar. The main difference, the missing piece, was the lack of that hideous, yet fitting, coat.

The two were speaking as they moved toward the house. While remaining zoomed in, the camera followed them up to the front door then stopped when it closed. Zim's eyes closed tightly. He finally fell forward, fists hitting the cold metal. And so here he was, again. On the floor brought to his knees from pain and the awareness of his own flaws. And the humans were free to change, to grow, to fix themselves. It was what he counted on in these moments.

And yet he wanted it gone.

Humans have such short sad lives to live. When originally leaving the Earth's orbit, Zim thought staying and watching the world burn around the humans would have brought him some peace before heading out into the expanding cosmos. Surely, they would die before he would be found by the Almighty or any range of bounty hunters. It would take far too long to get to this small, insignificant planet with the armada. He counted on the humans dying and his escape from this solar system.

His head lifted and he looked at the door, which the camera remained zoomed in on. It was time to do what Zim had avoided. Continuing to monitor the humans in this way was delaying his plans further. "Goodbye, Zim's friends," he murmured softly while straining to stand.

"Computer."

"Mm what now?" it asked sarcastically, "what, wanting to call your--"

"Connect to Zim's PAK and identify all files containing memories of the Membrane-unit from Earth." Zim cut the computer off with little interest in its commentary, or the ability to bare hearing that word thrown back at him. Calling the humans his friends was as low as Zim could go now. It was as if he admitted to failing as an Invader entirely.

"Are you sure?" the Computer asked after a moment of silence.

"Obey Zim!" he growled. Cameras 7, 8, and 15 disappeared. Thick cords slithered from the ceiling and attached to Zim's PAK with harsh snapping sounds.

Both Zim and the cords shuddered with the next series of zaps in response to the connection, perhaps in response to the intent. Zim remained silent and moments after the electricity voltage returned to semi-normal, Computer displayed an Irkan cipher on the three monitors. Camera 21 remained focus on the door of the Membrane house. Part of the window was visible, and pacing could be seen within. Zim could not identify which human it was.

"I have found 101,476 memory points with references to Dib and Gaz. Want their father too?" it asked. Zim nodded. "Memory points updated to 101,658. So...what am I doing with this?"

Zim stared at the legs pacing within the Membrane house. Would the voltage go back down if he deleted the humans--those specific humans? Could the voltage go down? 

"Computer..." he paused; the question stuck on his tongue. Pressure on his chest increased. Intake of vital atmospheric chemicals was lowered. High body fought against the question and yet Zim persisted. "H-how...how high," he coughed, gloved hand clutching at his tunic. "Report frequency of...voltage persistence...from PAK...f-for...In-in-INVADERS," he howled. Zim's mouth remained open as he attempted to take in the necessary chemicals for physical survival. Thick saliva pooled at the corner of his mouth, an acid green color that stained the metal floor when it dripped.

Magenta eyes closed. He could no longer see the camera. It meant nothing as he was brought to his knees. His head hit the floor. Throat dry. Chest compression increased. Was he dying?

"I don't understand your question, dude. But, uh, why are you just lying there dying?"

Zim's fist beat the floor. One of the cables disconnected from Zim's back as the Computer acted. "NO," Zim frantically shouted. "The... the files...del--"

"If I change any settings on the PAK you may be pushed into physiological shock at this point and require medical attention. All assistance is on the Earth's surface. Want me to call them back?"

Zim coughed in a way that echoed like a laugh. "No," he breathed. "Zim...will ... no longer...be a--" he stopped, not because he felt forced to and only partially because he could not breathe. He stopped because he didn't want to admit it to himself. Straining, Zim looked up one more time. The window was empty. It was getting dark on Earth. Inside the house, the familiar glow of the television set twitched.

"Create more disaster...," Zim whispered hoarsely. "Zim counts on...your lives being...short and fulfilled." He swallowed back the acid green saliva and flattened himself against the metal floor. Magenta eyes closed one last time. "Delete identified memory points," Zim said as quickly as he could muster.

Without a word, Computer reconnected the cord to the third space on Zim's PAK with an echoing click. On the first screen, a status bar began. The second screen began hopping between pointers and memory locations. The third screen indicated Zim's vitals as Computer began the deletion process.

Still on Earth's surface, Skoodge and GIR collected treats and artifacts for Zim, hoping to cheer him. Neither were indicated of the procedure commencing on the moon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this side story! Some of the dialogue is vaguely based off "Want you Gone" from Portal 2. Just felt like a Zim jam.
> 
> Thank you to FlappyCat03 for beta reading, as always :D
> 
> This story takes place in the same timeline as my main story, Intergalactic & Interpersonal, but doesn't necessarily happen in correlation to any published chapter, and may not actually take place in the main storyline. Think of it as a momentary divergence which may or may not reconnect later >_> <_<
> 
> That being said, there are plot hints hidden here. See if you can guess what's going to happen in the future!
> 
> Thank's for reading, see ya -XXX


End file.
